


Going Somewhere

by wesfan1234 (crayonbreakygal)



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/wesfan1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing conversation between Wes and Faith in "Sanctuary".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> implied torture, language from the episode
> 
> Note: There was a short scene between the two right before the Council showed up to take Faith away. Faith was upstairs after Angel told her to leave so he could talk to Buffy. It just seemed that the scene was much too short, because Buffy and Angel have at least a five-minute scene, going all "schoolyard" on each other. This is what I thought should have happened. After the scene, Wes followed Faith down the stairs, not flinching at all, even slightly touching her going down the stairs. So this is my take on it. So read and enjoy.
> 
> Italicized words are from the script "Sanctuary" by Joss Whedon and Tim Minear.

Faith

" _Faith?_ _Going somewhere?_ "

Faith froze at the sound of his voice. Damn it all, she thought she'd not have to confront him this soon. Having to say she was sorry was never in her vocabulary. She had wanted to be alone, away from Buffy and her self-righteousness. Not that Buffy wasn't entirely correct in her assumption that Faith was evil scum. The air downstairs had become too closed off, almost stifling. Up here, maybe she could breathe long enough to work up the courage to go back down, to somehow make it up to Buffy for all the wrong that she did.

" _No. Just wanted to be alone_."

Not that it wasn't crowded up here with Wesley in the room. That damned elephant just kept getting bigger and bigger. She'd kidnapped Wesley to make a point to Angel. Or so she thought. When her ex-watcher had struck her in Cordelia's apartment that had made her look forward to the torture even more. After she had sliced him up though, she had wanted to take that same piece of glass and do the same to herself. Wanting to release his bonds and let him have at it with her was the best wish she could hope for.

He had changed in those few months in LA. She hadn't, coma aside. Angel had somehow gotten through to the British prick, while he had utterly failed to stir any kind of humanity in her back in Sunnydale. She should turn around now and walk away from her former watcher. To let him see her innermost vulnerabilities just wouldn't do. When he told her how well he knew her, well, he wasn't lying at all. She was just a piece of shit. Heard it before, from her mother down to the man standing right behind her.

Slowly turning, Faith finally focused, seeing Wesley in a new light. His face was battered, bruised, cut. He had cleaned himself up since the last she saw him in the rain, in that alley. The man certainly didn't look like the jerk she knew before. His face was hard, worn, beaten by her hands. Everything she had done to Buffy was nothing compared to the sight before her. She'd messed with Buffy's body. But she had injured this man's soul. Not something you could just make up to someone by saying two little words.

" _Of course. Angel downstairs?_ "

" _Yeah._ "

" _All right then._ "

As he moved closer to her, he didn't flinch. Just as he hadn't flinched not too many hours before. He had wanted to scream from pain, just like she had wanted to scream at him "why?" Why had they made her into a killer? Why had they taught her that her hands, her body could snap a man's neck, or could plunge a stake into a man's heart without blinking? Sure, it had given her a purpose in life, beyond the drinking and drugs that her mother had introduced into her life.

The man standing before her wasn't that same watcher who made her train. His cold blue eyes burned a hole right through her, down to her heart. And at that moment, she knew what she had to do. He'd melted her heart, made her realize that he held her life in the palm of his hand. If he had wanted to place his hands around her neck at that instant, she would have welcomed him with open arms. No apologies necessary after he choked the life out of her.

"Faith?"

He said her name as she stared into his eyes. Maybe he thought she'd attack him again. But he didn't move away. She didn't know if that was smart on his part, but what do you do. The lone tear that fell from her eye had been unexpected. She never cried for anyone, and never, ever in front of a man. That was the one thing that her mother had taught her. It showed weakness that you're not in control.

Faith wasn't in control though. Her whole body was in fight or flight mode. But she stood very still, trying to form the words to tell Wesley how she felt. When he reached his hand up to wipe away the tear was when she flinched. Not that she wouldn't welcome his fist in her face. No, it was his act of kindness that floored her.

The warmth of his hand on her very cold face felt like heaven. This man was giving comfort to his enemy. His worst enemy. His thumb wiped away the single tear as his palm moved under her jaw, almost covering one side of her face. Being this close to him put her mind in a tailspin. It had not been a few hours before that she had sat in his lap, grinding a shard of glass into his chest just to hear him scream. Now his blue eyes just bored holes into her, just like that sharp piece of glass.

So his hand was the blunt, his eyes were the sharp, the warmth of his touch the hot, the distance between them the cold, and the noise in her head the loud. She'd told him about the five torture groups. And here she thought she was doing it right. All he had to do was touch her cheek and look at her. A lot less blood and mess this way. Why hadn't she thought of it before?

She'd seen or felt each of these in Sunnydale, but never at the same time. He'd touched her once or twice, tried sparring with her. His hand was large, fingers long. He'd actually gotten in a few good hits, but she'd never let him know that. The few times he'd helped her up with those hands, she had felt his touch and it burned, leaving her cold when he let go. And the noise in her head had always been there. Could he hear it too? Did he have these noises in his head too? Had she created noises in his head just like hers?

The cuts, scrapes, bruises did nothing to actually mar his face in her eyes. She had thought his face a little too perfect, a little too beautiful for a guy. No battle lines like Giles had. Perfect face, perfect hair, perfect suit, perfect watcher. All on the outside, showing nothing on the inside.

But she had seen the inside of him. Had seen him bleed, making almost no noise as she sliced him open for the entire world to see. The blood would never wash off her hands. How many showers had he taken to get her smell off of him?

Why hadn't she noticed before now how fierce his eyes became when he had wanted to commit some kind of violence? Still she didn't move. He had mesmerized her, just like some vampires were able to do to their victims. She hoped he never was turned, or she'd be the first person on his list to kill.

Faith had to find her voice, had to tell him how very sorry she was. Her control had slipped, everything had spiraled down and down until she couldn't stop. Hell, Angel thought that if he talked enough, he'd be able to help her regain that control. It wouldn't work. It hadn't in Sunnydale. The man in front of her was her only hope.

"I . . . I'm sorry." There, she had said it. It was easier and much, much harder than Angel had said it would be. The words were out. But would Wesley know that she had meant it?

"Sorry?" He looked puzzled, but still held her face in his warm hand.

"Not much else I can say. I was wrong, so very wrong. You didn't deserve any of what I did."

His face hardened even more, hand flexing just slightly. Maybe her control issues weren't the only problem here.

"Our history hasn't been the smoothest, Faith. And I contributed to it quite a bit."

Oh no, he was blaming himself for her loss of self-control. That was not what she had wanted to happen.

"I started us down this wrong path by killing that man. I should have never hurt you. You were doing what you thought was right."

Wesley's eyebrows shot up at that statement. Why she just didn't keep her mouth shut at times was amazing.

"I was doing what I was told to do. Which in your circumstance wasn't exactly the right way to handle the situation. But that doesn't excuse . . . ."

"What I did. What **I did**. Not you. Me. I'm the one who is sorry here." Faith wanted to shut him out now. The fight, the talks with Angel, seeing Buffy again had taken so much out of her body and mind.

"What will you do now?" Wesley had moved even closer to her, standing so close that she had to bend her head back to look into his eyes.

Why hadn't she ever noticed him before? Really noticed him. Maybe because all men in her life were just playthings, a means to an end. Even Angel to some extent. She felt the roughness of his hand, the heat from his body, the smell of him surrounded her. He was so very tall and overwhelming. Not like Angel, with all of his posturing, all muscle and scowl. No, this man had something that Angel could never possess. The fire in this man's eyes said it all. She'd do anything to make it up to him, even if that meant giving up her life to satisfy him.

"What I need to do. I need to pay for my mistakes."

"But not the way you think. We need to talk to Angel. The Council buffoons are on their way, nursing a very big grudge against you."

So they had caught up with her too. Just as Buffy had. Just as Angel had. Just as her watcher had. Just as her past had caught up with her finally. She'd put herself in this man's hands.

"I trust you to do the right thing."

"Downstairs, now. Before they arrive."

Faith's hand shook as she raised it to his split lip. She had wanted to touch him, tell him that she wasn't a monster. She had heard them talking in the office. Wesley thought that was exactly what she was. And he did flinch, from her touch on a tender spot, or because she actually moved.

"I am sorry," she told him as she drew her hand back at the same time he let go of her.

"I know you are. But you still have a long way to go to find peace."

There was hope in his voice. Something she never thought she'd hear since he told Angel she was an animal. Redemption wouldn't be easy. But just knowing that he had some glimmer of hope made her stand up a little straighter. She knew what she had to do. Redemption was such a bitch.

* * *

Wesley

Oh God, she was standing in Angel's office, back turned. Had she hurt Angel in some way?

 _"Faith? Going somewhere?"_

Because if she left now, he knew she'd never be redeemed. Angel seemed to think that she could be. Just like Angel had taken him in when he was down and out. Maybe for once, Angel could be right. He'd laid into the vampire earlier in the day, telling him what he thought of the plan. Angel didn't have any idea what he was feeling. As a matter of fact, neither did he.

 _"No. Just wanted to be alone."_

Alone. Something he knew intimately. Wesley had always felt alone in the world. Until he had come to Los Angeles, met up with Angel and Cordelia again. Now he felt needed. What he hadn't understood until now was why Angel was so desperate to help Faith. She was a killer, plain and simple. She tortured him for hours, him still bearing the bruises from that.

But he had seen her face in the alleyway. Broken. The torture and the fight had broken the girl in two. She was a shadow of her former self. No cocky, self-assured slayer in front of him. A lost little girl. She slowly turned to face him. He could see the pain on her face, wincing, as she looked him over.

 _"Of course. Angel downstairs?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"All right, then."_

He didn't know what to say to her, how to feel towards her. It was madness that he was still in the same room with her. She could snap his neck without blinking. For some odd reason, he wasn't afraid of her anymore. Her eyes were as huge as saucers, mouth trembling just slightly. And it was real. This girl was really and truly scared. In just those few short hours, Faith had found some of her humanity. He hadn't thought it was possible.

"Faith?" he said again. She just looked at him with those sorrowful brown eyes, boring a hole all the way down to his soul. She really did know how to torture with just a look.

When the lone tear started to fall, he moved on instinct instead of caring, just like he had done with Cordelia and her eye not hours before. Her skin was cold to the touch, face like fine china. He knew that she could break on the outside, but what about the inside? He couldn't pull his hand away. She mesmerized him with those big eyes. Like she could find redemption in just a look, a touch. Which meant he was not the man to do it.

Other men might take their pound of flesh from her, putting a fist to that beautiful, tragic face. What would be the point? He generally wasn't a violent man. But here she stood, his enemy. In his boss's office, staying with Angel. She was just merely a mixed up, confused girl and he was a full-grown man.

She didn't move away from his touch. He thought that he'd flinch from just having her close. But he didn't. Or wouldn't until all of this had sunk in. Not sleeping in the past twenty-four hours was playing tricks on his mind. Was this the same girl, not quite woman that had tortured him for hours just to make a point?

God, when had it all spiraled out of control? His control? He thought he had control back in Sunnydale, of both slayers. He'd been so young and naïve. Learned his lesson the hard way. Slayers had to be strong-willed to be able to survive any amount of time against the forces of darkness. His two had that trait in spades. While Buffy had family and friends to fall back on, Faith was left wanting. And all he did was watch it all collapse. Instead of being proactive, he had let her slide. Follow the training to not get close to his slayer had been what he was taught. Which in fact had almost doomed the world to certain chaos. In the end, Buffy had taken Faith down, not him.

He needed to tell her how sorry he was for his actions in Sunnydale. But that would have to wait. The Council was very unforgiving. And they thought that they had Wesley pegged. The stupid ponces.

"I . . . I'm sorry." She said it. Never before had she said it. What puzzled him the greatest was that she could actually say the words out loud.

"Sorry?" He held her cold face in his hand. He couldn't seem to let go, like there was a lifeline between the two.

"Not much else I can say. I was wrong, so very wrong. You didn't deserve any of what I did."

Oh, he did deserve her fury. Maybe not so violently displayed as it was just hours before. But he did deserve some kind of punishment for not being a better watcher.

"Our history hasn't been the smoothest, Faith. And I contributed to it quite a bit."

"I started us down this wrong path by killing that man. I should have never hurt you. You were doing what you thought was right."

He was doing what they told him to do. The damn Council had no idea what it was like to handle a slayer like Faith. Only Giles could have an inkling what it was like to be living on a Hellmouth with a teenage slayer under his control. Or at least if not under his control, then doing what her birthright told her to do.

"I was doing what I was told to do. Which in your circumstance wasn't exactly the right way to handle the situation. But that doesn't excuse . . . ."

She interrupted him. "What I did. What **I did**. Not you. Me. I'm the one who is sorry here."

Wesley was so very tired. She had taken a lot out of him physically and mentally. He just wanted it to all go away.

"What will you do now?" Wesley had moved even closer to her, standing so close that she had to bend her head back to look into his eyes.

Why had he never noticed her before? He had concentrated on her skills as a slayer, not her as a human being. Maybe because all the women in his life thought he was an overbearing prick. They all made him quiver on the inside. Faith was so small compared to himself. But she was all woman now, not the girl he first met in Sunnydale. She was rounder, softer. Her face had warmed under his hand, her body became more enticing the closer he came. The sorrow in her deep brown eyes drew him even closer, making him feel wanted for the first time. Her very life was now in his hands.

"What I need to do. I need to pay for my mistakes."

"But not the way you think. We need to talk to Angel. The Council buffoons are on their way, nursing a very big grudge against you."

Unfortunately, they didn't want to rehabilitate her. He could tell by looking at the three Council Elite that was not on their agenda. Wesley would not have his slayer's blood on his hands. They could go to hell for all he cared.

"I trust you to do the right thing." She trusted him? Did he hear that right? He didn't trust her as far as he could throw her.

"Downstairs, now. Before they arrive."

Faith's hand shook as she raised it to his split lip. He wanted to leave his hand on her face, tell her that she wasn't a monster. Wesley thought before that was exactly what she was. And he did flinch, from her touch on a tender spot, or maybe because she actually moved. Touching him was the last thing he expected.

"I am sorry," she told him as she drew her hand back at the same time he let go of her.

"I know you are. But you still have a long way to go to find peace."

Hope had entered in the equation. Something he never thought he'd see since he told Angel she was an animal. Redemption wouldn't be easy. Knowing that he had some glimmer of hope for her made everything seem different somehow. He knew what he had to do. Redemption was such a bitch.


End file.
